A Duet of Ice and Fire
by ZenWriterZero
Summary: He loved her. And she loved him. Glimpses into the unseen moments between Ice and Fire and how they fell in love.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones or anything associated with it. All I own is the fact I'm officially Jonerys trash XD As always please read, review and enjoy!

Burn

Dawn was just breaking atop the Wall as she stared out upon the frozen north from her perch on Eastwatch. The silence broken only by the cold winds and the pained screeches of Drogon and Rheagal as they mourned their brother.

In her mind, she could still see her gentle Viserion, burning and crashing into the ice as his blood rained down. Only for him to sink into that frozen lake without a sound. Part of her still refused, no, could simply not comprehend the loss she had just suffered. Her gentlest, sweetest child, ripped away from her without warning and so easily.

Even up here in complete solitude save for her children above her, the tears would not come, all she could do was wait for her Viserion. And Jon Snow as well.

A man who upon reflection, may truly have surpassed all the other men she had known in terms of doing the stupidest and most heroic thing she had ever seen.

That stubborn, brooding willful and brave man who she had begun to find so intriguing had surely gotten himself killed for his heroism just as she had predicted to her Hand.

And she couldn't help but hope against hope for his return as well.

She heard footsteps behind her.

"Its time to go your grace," Ser Jorah said somberly.

The ship to carry the survivors and the wight had arrived then. She should make her way to Kings Landing as soon as possible, Cersei, no, the entire realm needed to see the true threat for what it was. Just as she had. It was the best way to honor Jon Snow's and Viserion's sacrifice.

But even so...

"A bit longer," she replied.

She wasn't sure how much longer she stayed, a few more seconds, a few more minutes a few more hours. Waiting for just a glimpse of the survivors. In her mind she tried to conjure any scenario where Viserion and Jon had survived and would come over that horizon. Perhaps Viserion had survived under the lake and Jon, who had actually managed to connect with Drogon, her wildest and most untamed child would come flying over the horizon astride her gentle child, wounded but alive.

But no, that was but a fantasy and queens could not afford to become lost in fantasy.

She steeled herself and turned to leave.

As she did a horn bellowed out a single blast.

"Rider approaching!"

She turned back to the frozen lands and saw an impossible sight. A single horse with a slumped and frozen rider astride it. Her heart leapt into her throat as she realized that somehow that brave fool at least, had managed to come back.

Ser Davos and several others rushed out to grab Jon off the horse and she quickly made her way down the stairs of Eastwatch, Ser Jorah close behind.

When she was at the base of the fort she heard Davos and the red headed Wildling.

"Seven hells his clothes are fucking frozen to him. What's the warmest room here?"

"The whole place is cold and damp. We have warm soup in the kitchens though."

"Soup?!"

"He needs to be warmed from the inside too."

She turned the corner to find them literally carrying Jon, who almost looked more like a frozen corpse than a living man.

"My cabin in the ship has the warmest furs. Take him there."

The redheaded wildling looked at her and nodded.

"Aye, but first soup. The Freefolk know best how to stave off the cold."

She followed them as they poured small amounts of warm soup down Jon's mouth, despite him sputtering and coughing it up. When the wildling was satisfied and Jon even started to look a bit more alive they began to hurry him to her ship. Having ordered the crew to grab several spare furs she made her way to see Davos and a young man attempting to get his frozen garments off of him. Each movement accompanied by the sound of ice cracking as she watched silently.

When they finally got his shirt off she almost gasped aloud at what she saw.

Aside from being unnaturally pale, the scars that covered his body were unlike anything she had ever seen on a living man.

She recalled, as if from another lifetime the wound that had killed Khal Drogo, not too far from his own heart.

Jon Snow had three such wounds covering his body, each of them looking strangely fresh and impossibly deep. Especially the one right above his heart.

She shook her head at the nearly impossible conclusion. He _had_ taken a knife to the heart. He truly had for his people, how in the world could he have survived such wounds?

Davos quickly covered Jon in blankets but the sight of the scars wouldn't leave her mind.

"All we can do now is wait your grace."

She quickly composed herself again.

"Are your certain?"

The old smuggler nodded. "Can't heat him up too fast, or else his body will give out. I've seen it before on cold waters. We have to warm him slowly, over time."

"Very well then." She turned to an Unsullied crewmember.

"Ensure that he's looked after, change his bedding as needed if they're not warm enough.

The Unsullied nodded and resumed his post.

"Don't worry your grace, Jon Snow's as tough as they come, he'll be alright."

As he made his way to leave, likely to help the crew sail, she called out to him still watching Jon Snow's sleeping face.

"Ser Davos?"

He quickly turned around.

"When you first came to Dragonstone, you were going to tell me that he gave his own life, weren't you?"

Davos hesitated for a moment, not sure if this was his story to tell but in the end...

"Yes I was, your grace."

There it was, without a shadow of any more doubt.

"How?"

"I'm not sure its for me to..."

"How?" she said with some fire in her voice.

Davos sighed.

"When Jon let the wildlings through the Wall, some of his men thought he had betrayed what the Night's Watch stood for. So they lured him into a trap and murdered him."

She continued looking at Jon, her expression becoming more awestruck as he continued.

"As to how he managed to come back, I managed to convince a Red Woman to try a ritual and well, needless to say, it worked."

At this, her eyes widened and she turned to face him.

"Mellisandre."

Very rarely had she seen a face contort in both fury and fear like it did on Ser Davos.

"You know her?"

"She's the one who told me to summon Jon Snow."

"Did she tell you anything else? Is she still with you?"

"No, just to summon Jon and listen to him. She left the day you two arrived."

For a moment, absolute murder came to his eyes but he took a deep breath and turned away again.

"Beggin your pardon your grace, but I better go make sure we don't get lost out at sea."

She let him leave without any more questions, satisfied with what she'd learned. Satisfied and awed by the truth.

As the days passed and his skin began to resume a normal tone, she found herself sitting with him more and more often, usually telling the attendant to leave them. And it was in some of these moments that she finally managed to let some of her tears fall in grief.

But mostly she wanted to just make sure he was alright. Having gotten to know him, having learned of his battles and trials, the man sleeping in front of her was beyond any shade of any doubt a good man, with a good heart. Those were all too rare in the world and she was determined to not let this one die a second time.

It was nearly a week before he finally opened his eyes with no trace of cold induced delirium.

Be blinked dazedly before his gaze found its way and focused on her. Relief flooded her to finally see him awake.

But what he said...

"I'm sorry," he breathed out, his eyes shining with regret. "I'm so sorry."

Needless to say, coming from a man who had nearly died a horribly cold death, she was touched as she shook her head and tried to resist the tears returning to her eyes as he grabbed her hand.

"I wish I could take it back. I wish we'd never gone."

Part of her agreed, a selfish part perhaps told her that if they hadn't her child would still be alive.

But the rest of her...

"I don't," she said and she meant it. "If we hadn't gone I wouldn't have seen. You have to see it to know. And now I know."

As she spoke she began to find her resolve.

"The dragons are my children. They're the only children I'll ever have, do you understand?"

That foul witch had seen to that a long time ago. But she told him this so that he would understand, truly understand what they meant to her. They were not weapons or the foundation of her power, she truly loved them.

He nodded as he looked down, likely still feeling guilty.

But now she had found her resolve, and vengeance began to burn within her.

"We are going to destroy the Night King and his army. And we'll do it together, you have my word."

This threat went beyond her birthright or her desire to rule, no more would she ask him to bend the knee, she would bear all her resources against the dead, she would be the protector of the realm in her actions if not in official title.

"Thank you, Dany."

She raised her eyebrows at that.

"Dany?" she chuckled. "Who was the last person to call me that?" Not even her closest friend Messandei called her that.

"I'm not sure was it my brother? Hmmm" she smiled jokingly. "Not the company you want to keep."

"Alright, not Dany." He took a deep breath.

"How about my queen?"

To say she was surprised would be an understatement. After weeks of refusing, despite her claim and despite her power, now that she had already pledged her aid to bend the knee now?

"I'd um, bend the knee but..." he said half joking as he looked down at his bedridden body.

But this was no joking matter.

"What about those who swore allegiance to you?"

"They'll all come to see you for what you are," he replied in a soft voice without a trace of doubt.

She was moved by that. Moved and thankful for his faith in her as this time she grabbed his hand and held it.

"I hope I deserve it."

"You do," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She realized they had been holding hands for a bit long and began to pull away but he wouldn't let go.

Her heart began to race as they stared at each other and she realized that what her Hand had told her was all too true.

Eventually they let go, Jon was about to say something but she cut him off.

"You should get some rest," she said softly, almost fearfully.

Jon nodded and sunk in further to the bed as he closed his eyes. Once he had done so, Daenerys quickly left, her breathing slightly ragged.

It was all too much, her grief for Viserion, her relief Jon had come back, the fear of the army of the dead, her sorrow of having failed as a ruler and now these feelings for a stubborn Northerner who made her feel like the young girl she hadn't allowed herself to be for a very long time.

She made her way to her temporary room and quickly shut the door behind her, breathing deeply to slow her thundering heartbeat. _"Jon Snow's not in love with me"_ she had told Tyrion. He had been completely unconvinced and now, she was certain she'd be just as unconvinced if she tried to tell herself that she wasn't in love with Jon Snow.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones or anything associated with the show or books. Just a guy getting his feels out via writing. As always please read, review and enjoy!

A Duet of Ice and Fire

As soon as Jon Snow and Ser Davos left and the doors shut with several loud clangs, Daenerys whirled on her advisors, her eyes demanding an explanation from Varys.

"Our Ironborn and Dornish allies were attacked en route to Dorne."

 _Well this day is getting better and better,_ Tyrion thought to himself as he absorbed the news.

"And?" his Queen asked.

"Two or three ships escaped," Varys continued. "The rest sunk or captured, Ellaria and the Sandsnakes dead or captured the Greyjoys dead or captured."

 _Oh fuck me,_ Tyrion thought miserably. This was…not good. His carefully meticulous plan was one step away from being complete shit. He had known Cersei wouldn't make this war easy but he hadn't expected her to blindside him like this.

"All of them?" his queen asked again.

"A few scattered crews but likely with no captain loyal to you. They'll probably go back to the Iron Islands or head east to pillage some unfortunate land."

Daenerys pursed her lips and glared.

"So all that's been gained today, is the loss of our most powerful allies and a rebellious pretender who refuses to bend the knee."

No one said anything.

She shook her head. "We'll meet in the war room in a few hours and see if we can salvage anything from this mess. You are all dismissed."

Everyone began to leave.

"Except you Lord Varys, and Tyrion, I have a matter to speak to you about."

The two advisors shared a look before approaching the Queen slightly nervous.

"Lord Varys, what do you know about Jon Snow?"

 _Well this will be interesting._

The Spider dipped his head apologetically. "Sadly not much that isn't already known to many. He is Eddard Stark's bastard now King in the North, born near the end of Robert's Rebllion, likely to a tavern wench or other low born woman though there are some interesting rumors that Eddard had a great noble love aside from his wife Catelyn but I doubt there's any truth to them. I take it he is the 'rebellious pretender' you mentioned earlier?"

"You missed quite the meeting," Tyrion said half jokingly "her grace finally met someone as stub…strong willed as she is."

 _Seven Hells I hope she didn't catch that._

Fortunately if she did notice his near slip up, she chose to ignore it.

"All your little birds and you can't tell me anything about Jon Snow?"

"Sadly your grace, I never had need of too many birds in the North in the first place. And with the North having been ravaged by the wars I fear the songs from there are a rare thing now."

Daenerys turned her gaze to him now. "And you Tyrion? You said you trusted him, that he was a good man."

"I do and from what I know, he is,"

"But you can't say for certain?"

"Can anyone ever say that for certain about somebody?"

She was quiet for a moment as she began to contemplate something. Tyrion was about to speak before she finally voiced her thoughts.

"My brother used to call Eddard Stark the Usurper's dog. I know he was a half mad fool more wrong about everything than he was ever right. But still, I have my doubts about trusting a man who's the son of Robert's best friend. A man who hounded me throughout my entire life, killed my entire family and tried to kill my unborn child. Tell me, what kind of a man is friends with someone so hateful? A man who sends killers after children and an unborn babe?"

She shook her head.

"It might be wiser to execute him now."

To Tyrion's surprise, it was Varys who spoke up in defense.

"I can't speak to his choice in friends your grace, but I am certain of one thing your grace. Ned Stark never approved of Robert's vendetta against you."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because I was at the small council meeting where he resigned as Robert's hand over his decision to kill you and your son."

Both Tyrion's and Daenery's eyes widened at that revelation.

"He resigned?"

"Indeed, I remember the meeting quite well. Everyone on the small council, Pycelle, Littlefinger, Renly Baratheon and…myself," he said chagrined. "Not one of us spoke against Robert's order to kill you and your child before he could be born and lead the Dothraaki. Only Ned Stark refused to, 'cower in the shadow of an unborn child' I believe he said. When Robert refused to reconsider, he plucked the pin from his chest, laid it in front of Robert and left the room. I honestly half expected Robert to send guards after him he was so enraged. Ned likely would have left for Winterfell that very day, never to have another thing to do with Robert had Jaime Lannister not ambushed him." Varys nodded towards Tyrion.

"As retribution for Catelyn Stark's kidnapping of you if I recall correctly my lord."

Tyrion let out a depreciating chuckle.

"It all feels like a lifetime ago."

"Indeed. And all of it leading up to the death of a good man that plunged the realm into a bloody war." Varys shook himself out of his melancholy.

"I don't know much about this Jon Snow, not yet, but I do know that if he's anything like his father than he's a good man. Likely better than most and I was truly saddened by Ned Stark's death, not just because of what it did to the realm, but because it lost such a good man."

 _High praise coming from our resident Spider._ He looked back at Daenerys who seemed rather contemplative.

 _Time to hopefully save Jon's life._ "The Starks have always been hard people your grace, but very honorable. It would be a grave mistake to kill off one of the last of them."

That got her attention.

"One of the last?"

"As far as we know your grace, Jon Snow and his sister Sansa are the last Starks alive. Out of 6 children, only two have survived the wars."

"I see," she nodded.

A flicker of sadness crossed her face almost too fast to see. Tyrion felt a slight twinge knowing he was likely using an old wound of hers but he had to make sure she didn't execute Jon before he could get him to bend the knee.

The sadness passed and she resumed her queenly veneer.

"Very well, he's free to move around the island. For now. In the meantime, both of you should focus on the war ahead of us. Make sure you've considered all possibilities, I do not wish to hear of another failure."

With that she left the room and left the Spider and the Dwarf to themselves.

"She seems quite intrigued by our new guest," the Spider said.

"It was quite the meeting. I suppose it's rare for her to meet someone she wasn't able to intimidate."

"Did he give reason as to why he wouldn't bend the knee?"

At this, Tyrion sat down on one of the steps to the rock throne.

"How familiar are you with stories of the Army of the Dead?"

Varys quirked an eyebrow.

"Children's stories from thousands of years ago. Supposedly, the real reason why the Wall was built."

"Jon claims that the army is real and its marching on the Wall. And that if we don't band together, they'll kill us all before winter is done."

He had expected Varys to immediate shrug off such talk but the Spider seemed particularly disturbed.

"You seem more frightened than I would expect."

"Aren't you? Lest you forget I've had intimate experience with things that should not be possible."

Tyrion frowned remembering Benjen Stark and Lord Commander Mormont.

"Plus we've seen for ourselves the return of dragons, perhaps it's also possible that an evil from thousands of years ago could return as well. I consider all possibilities my lord, and I daresay, the possibility that he may be right is far more disturbing than any other possibility."

 _That's not all though is it?_

"You know something, don't you?"

"Not truly. But the last few songs I heard from the North made mention of wildlings fleeing from something by the thousands. Something with glowing blue eyes and the ability to raise the dead."

Varys shook his head. "But nothing is certain. Not yet."

"No," Tyrion agreed. "Not yet."

Neither of them believed truly believed that though.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones or anything associated with the show or books. Just a guy getting his feels out via writing. As always please read, review and enjoy!

A Duet of Ice and Fire

It was several days before Jon could find the strength to get out of the warm bed, much to the ever increasing exasperation of Ser Davos.

"You climbed out of a fucking frozen lake. You can take a few more days in bed."

"I'm fine Davos," he said as he slowly put on his undershirt. Making a slightly conscious effort to not have his fingers brush against his scars.

"I've had worse remember?"

"Oh aye, I remember alright. And I would think that you would not be in a hurry to repeat such an experience."

Jon did his best to just brush off his…Hand's? Advisor's? The old knight's remarks. He wasn't in any hurry to die again but there were some moments that came upon him in the night, moments that the feeling that he wasn't supposed to be here anymore plagued his thoughts, moments when he was certain he couldn't feel his own heartbeat though try as he might.

"I promise you, I'm alright. And if it makes you happy, I don't plan on ever going back over the Wall ever again if I can help it. That's twice I've come back from there slumped on a horse more dead than alive," he winced as he put on his overshirt. "I don't think I'll get a third time."

Davos sighed. "You might just be either the toughest, most stubborn or the luckiest man I've ever met."

Jon began to gradually put his armor on.

"I don't feel very lucky most days."

"You're certainly in a bit of a mood for someone who's cheated death again."

The truth was, he had been brooding a bit over the past few days. Ever since Dany…Daenerys had all but run out of the room.

 _Northern fool,_ he had reproached himself. _You should have just let her go._

But he hadn't. When she had first begun to pull her hand away his hand had almost acted on its own, refusing to let go. He was honestly almost as surprised as she must have been.

Even now his heart leapt a bit when he remembered the warmth of her hand, it had almost been like holding onto fire.

Instead, over the past few days, Davos and Tyrion had been visiting him to talk of how they would present the wight to Cersei. He had given his thoughts on the matter, and they had reached what felt like a suitable plan. Tyrion had suggested keeping the wight…"alive" to show other lords in the country but there was no time for that. They needed Cersei's support or at least a truce and they needed it now. The army of the dead was less than a day's march from the wall when they left. And who knows how much longer the dead would wait before assaulting the Wall?

So he would demonstrate the effectiveness of dragonglass on the wight himself. After they had hacked some pieces off of it. All in all, it promised to be quite the demonstration.

As he finished putting his armor on, he couldn't help but think that perhaps Daenerys had been visiting him as well. There were some mornings when he woke up and he could swear he smelt that exotic scent he had come to associate with her. But more likely than not it was just wishful thinking.

His armor fitted he grabbed Longclaw and fastened it to his waist.

"How much longer until we make it to King's Landing?"

"About a week. Maybe five days if the winds favor us. The Unsullied and Dotraaki can be surprisingly good on ships once you give them the proper advice."

Jon threw on his cloak and made to leave the room.

"I knew there was a good reason to bring you along."

"At least there's some people who listen to the proper advice when I have it."

As Jon opened the door the sea breeze hit him like a gust of a blizzard. Sailing from Whiteharbor to Dragonstone had been his first time on a ship and it was both exciting and strange to him. He wasn't overfond of the strange way the floor moved but the salty breeze the view of endless ocean horizon were undeniably beautiful and spoke of the promise of far off places. After he made his vows to the Night's Watch he had tried not to think about traveling anywhere else besides North of the Wall. He had longed to travel to new and distant lands when he was younger, to the Free Cities of Braavos, Dorne, even the ruins of old Valyria herself. Maybe if he lived through this war he could go there with…

He shook his head of the thought as he saw Daenerys walk down a set of stairs from the upper deck.

Her eyes widened as she realized he was up and about.

"Your grace,"

"I'm surprised to see you walking. Are you sure you shouldn't still be in bed?" she asked as she descended to the main deck.

"Don't bother trying to convince him your grace," Ser Davos chimed in before Jon could reply. "You'll have better luck trying to drink the whole ocean." One of the Dothraaki caught the Onion Knight's eye as he was trying to tie some sort of knot. "Mother save me," he grumbled as he moved towards him. "You! That's no way to tie a knot on a ship. This isn't a bloody stable…" as he marched to give someone else proper advice he had left him and Daenerys alone. For which Jon was both thankful and…nervous about.

There was a tinge of awkwardness between them, some sort of tension that hadn't been there before. Or at least, not in this amount.

 _God's she's beautiful_ he thought as he stared at her for what was probably an almost inappropriate amount of time.

 _Apologize you idiot_ Jon finally realized.

"Your grace I'm…"

"Jon it's…"

They had both started to speak at the same time and Jon couldn't help but chuckle with a small smile that she returned.

She nodded for him to go first.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry if I was being improper the last time we talked. I didn't mean to offend or to…" frighten? Worry? These words didn't seem to fit so he changed tack. "And I wanted to say thank you for saving our lives."

The Dragon Queen looked solemn.

"There's nothing to apologize for, we were both…well it's in the past now. And I'm glad to see you feeling better."

Surprisingly, that made Jon feel quite a bit better. He smiled.

"Thank you, your grace."

He felt lighter but there was still a tension in the air between them. Mercifully though, she began a new conversation.

"Have you sailed much in your lifetime?"

"Sadly no. Most of my travels have only been to beyond the Wall. Dragonstone was the furthest I've ever been South. I hear you've done quite a bit of traveling yourself."

She smiled a bit sadly at first. "When I was a child, my brother and I fled to all the cities in Braavos. I don't remember too much about those places, we never could stay long. But over the past few years I've been a Khaleesi in Vaas Dothrak, survived Quarth, been to Yuunkai and Astapor, even lived in the great pyramid of Mereen when I was Queen there."

Jon couldn't help but feel a small twinge of envy. To see so many new places and meet so many new people…

"Sounds like quite the adventure."

Her smile turned sad again. "I wish I could say it was. It was more of a fight for survival through each and every place I'd been. I almost lost my dragons in Quarth. A group of warlocks known as the House of the Undying had captured them. I essentially sacked Astapor and Yuunkai. And Mereen…" her face fell.

"Mereen was a bloodbath for most of my rule there. I never really had much of a chance to explore the cities for themselves. But I hope that I managed to leave those cities a just a bit better than I found them."

"You freed the slaves of those cities," Jon responded. "It wasn't easy and still won't be easy for the people there for years to come, but you started something. Maybe that's all we can really do at times. Get things started and hope they end as we envisioned them."

She stared out at the horizon for a moment thinking about that.

"Is that what you were thinking when you let the wildlings past the wall?"

He nodded. "Aye, something like that. There's a lot of bad blood between the North and the Freefolk, but maybe in time, if we survive, they'll come to accept each other. For now though the threat of a greater enemy will keep them from tearing each other apart."

She nodded in understanding, her smile brightening.

It was then that he noticed that they were both at the side of the ship, the crew giving them a wide berth, they were well and truly as alone as they could be here.

The wind blew her hair back and Jon felt the breath leave his lungs at the sight. He was starring again he knew but this time, he let himself stare just a little longer than he normally would have.

"What about your time beyond the Wall? Surely there was some wonders aside from the Army of the dead."

He thankfully shook himself out of his latest staring at those words.

"Mostly it's just a lot of snow and ice. Even in the height of summer, the snow never really goes away up there. It's a harsh, unforgiving place but it is…beautiful in a way. Peaceful. I remember staring out at a white plane as far as the eyes could see, with not a sound to be heard."

"Surely there's more to it than that?"

He smiled. "I suppose the more interesting things beyond the Wall are the people who live there."

For a long time, they talked about their experiences, Jon told her about wargs and the giants he had fought with and against, she told him about watching her dragons grow up and what it was like freeing the Unsullied or how she had managed to outsmart her enemies.

"Your grace," Tyrion called out. "I believe we have another meeting today."

They both looked up in surprise, they must have been talking for at least an hour now.

Clearly irritated, she turned to her Hand. "Thank you my lord. I shall be there shortly. Perhaps have some food set out for this meeting."

"Excellent idea your grace, I'll have something brought up. You're welcome to join us Jon."

He nodded. "Aye, I'll be there as well."

As Tyrion left the two of them regarded each other again.

"Duty calls, your grace."

"So it does. Hopefully it's not yet another rehearsal for our meeting in the Dragonpit. "

"Ah he's been going over that a lot with you as well."

"He enjoys talking," she smiled.

"Aye, he does," he laughed. "Shall we then?"

She nodded and together they made their way to their impromptu council room.

And for the first time in a long time, Jon felt maybe he was a bit luckier than he thought he was.


End file.
